


Take Me Home, Country Roads

by blenalela



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: And Walt's love for country, Brad's annoyed, Captain America worries about them all dying, Choirlike, Country Roads, Featuring Ray's heavenly singing skills, Scribe worries about the value of his notes, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 17:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20429453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blenalela/pseuds/blenalela
Summary: Ray has been far too quiet for far too long, so Brad wants him to be his normal self again. Only, that his plan backfired in the worst way





	Take Me Home, Country Roads

It was unusually quiet in humvee 1 Alpha. Wright scribbled away in his little notebook while Trombley, who had swapped places with Hasser for the time being, was kicking his legs and staring out into the landscape. Probably to find something to shoot at, you know, thinking thoughts only a psycho like him would think. The usual.  
Hasser was dead silent, just looking out the window occasionally swatting away a fly.  
As always, Brad didn’t say a lot, except the usual communication via radio.  
But what was suspicious about the silence in the car was the actual silence that had established itself. The others weren’t that talkative, but one of them normally never shut up.  
Ray was not talking, not singing, hell, not even humming!

Normally, Brad would say, this was something rare and something that needed to be enjoyed. But normally, Ray’s silence lasted for about 40 seconds. Not four full-blown minutes. So yes, the silence was worrisome.  
Was Ray ill?  
What had been a very comfortable, peaceful time in the humvee had now turned very uncomfortable.  
Somehow, Brad’s uneasiness affected Hasser who then started twitching like he had ants in his pants. This got Trombley to start rummaging around on the roof, producing sounds like he was about to saw a bigger hole in it. Lastly, Wright started knocking on his paper with his pen.  
All of a sudden, everyone felt like two cents.  
Except for one. Ray. He still remained quiet.

It got too much for Brad.  
“Hey Ray.”  
“Mmmmmh?”  
“You good?”  
“Mhm.”  
Hasser turned around to watch Ray instead of the desert passing by. Ray had never been this much out of character. He never gave such short answers. Especially not ones he didn’t even articulate in proper words.  
“You sure?” Brad continued his interrogation.  
Ray gave him a thumbs-up.  
A smirk crept up on Hasser’s lips and he moved back into his prior position.  
Trombley seemed to ignore the conversation under him and Wright looked like a little child watching a soccer match.  
If it wasn’t for Ray, it was like a normal day in humvee 1 Alpha.  
“Don’t you want to talk shit? Or sing something?”  
“MHM.” Was the answer, pressed out with force between closed lips.  
“Then do it.”  
Ray shook his head. He did it so violently, Brad feared his head would come off.  
“Ray, stop behaving like you would never annoy every being in a perimeter of five kilometers with your antics and just get out what you try to keep in.”  
No answer. Instead, Ray opened the string of his helmet and ripped the thing off his head. Afterwards, he put on his sunglasses.  
“Goddammit, Ray!”  
“You wouldn’t like what I want to sing!” the driver spat out desperately and closed his mouth again as soon as he could.  
“I don’t care what you want to sing I want you to just break your silence!”

“What is happening?” Evan moved a bit closer to Walt and hissed the question at him. If he had learned one thing, then that he should never ever question the sanity of Ray Person, or anyone, for that matter, but whatever happened in those two front seats right now, started to confuse him. The Virginia native looked over to him, shrugged and turned back to his window.  
The writer pulled back and watched the two men bickering. Well, to be honest, Brad was the only one bickering since Ray kept shut and only answered using gestures.  
He made a few notes. If it was not meant to make it to the report on war he was assigned to write, he could always put it to use by making his own stand-up comedy. (Truthfully, most of his notes could only ever be put to use in a comedy program.)

“Okay, you wanted it!” Ray exclaimed suddenly and started humming. Walt turned to look forward, a smile stretching on his face and he fell in with Ray.  
Trombley could be heard singing quietly with them from the roof.  
Only Brad did not join them. He looked even more displeased as he was with Ray’s silence.  
“Ray? Is that fucking country music?”  
The RTO started humming louder.  
“Ray. You know, no country music in my car.”  
He hummed even louder in response.  
“Fuck, stop with this shit!”  
Instantly, Ray switched the humming with singing. “Country Roads, take me home!”  
“NO!”  
“To the place I belong!”  
Brad contemplated shooting himself. Or jumping out of the car. “I swear, Ray, if you don’t shut up.”  
“West Virginia, mountain mama!” Walt had joined in by now. Rolling Stone seemed too fascinated to join and Trombley, well, it was possible that he was singing too, but Brad couldn’t hear his voice that good over Ray’s obnoxious one (especially since Trombley never sang every loudly.  
“Take me home, country roads!”  
“And from the beginning!” Ray announced, taking a deep breath.  
By now, Brad had given up. Instead, he delicately knocked his head against the car and let the others do what they wanted.  
“Hey, just because Walt has joined you let him continue?” Rolling Stone screamed into his ear from behind and Brad groaned a “Yes, if he’s got support it’s no use!” back.

Much to Brad’s dismay, he could hear the guys in the humvees behind scream the lyrics at the top of their lungs as well. What had he done to deserve this nightmare? Why couldn’t they sing some nineties pop? What about Britney Spears? Spice Girls? Wham!?  
Why couldn’t Ray start with the good old Bohemian Rhapsody? Hell, he’d have a load of fun by butchering the operatic section. The Iceman couldn’t even imagine what the Galileos would sound like if Ray intoned them with his angelic voice.

But now, life was punishing him with this bullshit right here. He cursed John Denver for releasing this thing from the depths of hell.  
Also, as if the song sung normally wasn’t horrible enough, Walt and Ray had now started to sing it in different voices. Like, Walt was doing a beautiful tenor and Ray a rather… experimental and interesting soprano. Trombley and Rolling Stone were clapping the beat and like this, perfected the a-capella version of the song.  
Brad could even hear Q-Tip and Christeson from behind and while he knew they were rather experienced singers (more or less), they were still about four vehicles behind theirs. So how the fuck was he able to hear their voices so clearly? And why the fuck did the whole battalion join in? Was today Annoy-Brad-Until-He-Shoots-You-Day?

“You are to fucking loud! We are going to be shot at because of you! Tone it down! Fuck, stop singing altogether! Do you want us to die?”  
Brad had never thought that there would be a day he was going to be happy about Captain America’s bullshit, but here it was.  
“Fucking Captain America, man…” Ray sighed as the singing from the whole Recon Marines stopped abruptly.  
For a few minutes it was silent again. Then Ray started humming again before quietly starting to sing to himself.  
“Oops I did it again…”  
And like this, it was a normal day spent driving in humvee 1 Alpha again.


End file.
